Peace on Earth
by Khell
Summary: It's the annual Christmas party at the Agency. After a little mishap with some eggnog, Amanda withdraws to the ladies room to repair the damage - and finds someone there she didn't expect. Set during the Christmas party in "Santa's Got a Brand New Bag".


I know it's a bit early for Christmas but I had this one finished and wanted to post it so I won't have to remember to post it later ... :) This one's set during that Christmas party at the Agency in "Santa's Got a Brand New Bag". For the sake of this story, I'm assuming Effrom Beaman has been with the Agency for at least three years ...**  
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**Peace on Earth**

Amanda entered the ladies room – and stopped. She hadn't expected to find anyone else here, least of all Francine, leaning back against the row of sinks arms folded across her chest.

She looked up when she heard Amanda enter.

"Oh. Hi, Amanda." She flashed Amanda a quick smile.

Amanda smiled back, wondering what Francine was doing in here, when there was the Christmas party going on. She had seemed to be in a better mood than usual, and even was nice to Beaman, fending off his drunken advances more gently than Amanda would have.

Amanda just couldn't help wondering why. She didn't ask, though. She and Francine weren't exactly friends; sometimes Amanda doubted they ever would be, but it certainly wouldn't stop her from trying. They did seem to be getting along better recently. She didn't want to risk their fragile truce, nor be snapped at about it being none of her business why Francine was here.

So she focused on the task at hand. She turned on one of the taps and started scrubbing away at the eggnog stain on her skirt. From the corner of her eye, she saw Francine watching her.

"Let me guess," Francine said after a while, "Beaman?"

Amanda nodded. "Yes."  
She stopped scrubbing at the stain and straightened.  
"I had no idea you could get that drunk on eggnog."

Francine laughed. "That's Beaman. He does it every year."

"I wonder why?" Amanda asked, "Won't he be terribly hungover tomorrow?"

Francine shrugged. "Maybe he needs to work up the courage to come after me with his newest scheme to elope."

"Oh?" Amanda raised her eyebrows. She had seen Beaman homing in on Francine and following her around, and had wondered about that too.

"Last year, he wanted me to go to Greece with him to raise goats."  
Francine's tone of voice was somewhere between exasperation and amusement.  
"The year before last, it was Uganda. And the year before that, Burma."

"Burma!" Amanda stared at her.

"Exactly my reaction." Francine glanced at her watch, then looked up and frowned.  
"As far as I know the steno pool's still got a bet going on about where he's going to choose next year. I heard Mabel Harris won this year's round."

Amanda felt her jaw drop open at that – just a little. Not so much hearing there was a bet in the steno pool. She hadn't known about that specifically but she wasn't surprised. The ladies in steno were always up for something like that. She was surprised though, that Francine didn't seem to mind that much; she was more or less _involved_ in one of those bets.

"And you're not trying to stop that?" she asked.

Again, Francine shrugged. "Well, I guess I could kick up a big fuss, but... What for? Besides, the steno ladies always do come up with so many interesting options; you have to give them that. Besides Greece this year, they also had New Zealand, Greenland and Gretna Green. I actually might try New Zealand for my next vacation. I've never been there." Francine glanced at her watch once more.

Amanda was struggling to wrap her mind around what she had just heard. There was an annual bet in the steno pool about Francine and Beaman and Francine not only knew about it but also didn't seem particularly upset about it.

Francine Desmond, who couldn't stand being teased or made fun of even by Billy and Lee, and had that very special kind of death glare reserved for anyone who tried.

She only noticed she was staring when Francine frowned at her and asked, "What?"

"Oh." Amanda blinked. "Sorry. It's just ... " She smiled. "That doesn't sound like you at all. I would have thought you'd be more upset."

Francine looked at her. She looked at her for quite a while and Amanda got the distinct impression that she was trying to make up her mind about something.

"In a job like this, you don't get upset," she finally said. "Not when you want to play major league. You get angry, and maybe when you're lucky and find an opportunity, you get back at them. But upset's not an option."

Amanda nodded. "I see."

That explained that, then. Of course, Francine must be talking from her own experience. It couldn't have been easy to get where she was now.

Amanda returned her attention to the stain on her skirt. She was aware that Francine kept watching her.

"It's also about setting priorities," she suddenly said, startling Amanda.

"Oh?"

Amanda decided that any further attempts at removing that stain would only end up making things worse. She turned off the faucet and shook out her skirt.

Francine regarded her with a very particular kind of look – two parts scrutiny and one part something else that Amanda failed to identify. She fought the urge to shift on her feet. She wasn't used to that kind of intense gaze, especially not from Francine. Nasty, yes. Haughty, most definitely. But this 'I'm trying to look right into your soul' kind of thing? Nope, not that.

Amanda was sure it was quite effective in interrogations. You could only endure that kind of look for so long.

Francine finally blinked, turning her head away to look straight ahead at the stalls.  
"It's not as bad anymore as it used to be when I started, but sometimes working here still can feel like you have to fight half a dozen little battles all at once, every day. Since you can't fight them all, you have to choose wisely where to invest the time and energy."

She glanced at Amanda and continued, "Beaman and the steno pool bet ... well, it's kind of annoying but harmless enough. It's actually become something of a Christmas tradition, like Jeannie's cake, or giving Billy a silly gift."

Amanda smiled. "Yes, I was wondering if he ever would wear that hat."

"Probably not. But he'll keep it in his office, together with some of the other things we've given him over the years."  
Francine checked her watch.

Out of reflex, Amanda did the same. It was twenty past four.

"The point is," Francine went on, "as long as there's still people around here who think a woman shouldn't be allowed to go any higher than the steno pool, or maybe the reception desk, Beaman and that silly bet simply aren't a top priority problem. At least, he and the ladies are taking me seriously the other 364 days of the year."

"I didn't know working here could be so ... tough," Amanda admitted.

Pretty much everyone she had met here had been at least nice or even supportive, like Lee and Mr. Melrose.

Francine shook her head and smiled. "Yes, that's because, so far, you've been lucky enough to have been handed almost everything on a silver platter."

It could have sounded mean, especially coming from Francine. But it didn't. She was merely stating a fact and Amanda knew full well it was true enough. She really had been very lucky here at the Agency. She had been on many interesting cases during the past few years and even more important, she had been on them with Lee. And now, they were engaged. The thought made Amanda smile.

"Oh gosh."  
Francine's eyes widened.  
"That sounded like I think you're no good as an agent. What I meant to say is now that you're working for the Agency full-time, you might run into that kind of attitude too."

"Thanks for the warning."

It was really amazing how different Francine could be when she forgot she had to uphold a reputation as the 'office witch.' It was a pity, Amanda thought, she didn't forget about that more often.

She gestured at the door. "I better get back to the party", she said, "before they start thinking I've stumbled into yet another sinister plot and been abducted once again."

Francine laughed. "Yes, that would be just like you, wouldn't it?"

"You know, you could come with me - just to make sure nothing happens."

Francine gave her a surprised look. And then smiled.  
"Nice try, but I'm staying right here."  
She checked her watch again.  
"For at least another ten minutes."

Amanda laughed. "If I didn't know it any better I'd say you're hiding from Beaman."

When Francine didn't join in her laughter, she grew serious again. "You really _are_ hiding from Beaman?"

"Not exactly. I'm ... waiting."

"Waiting?"

Francine nodded. "I'm waiting for half past four. By then Beaman will be drunk enough that he won't resist when I grab him to get him home, but still sober enough to be able to walk on his own."  
She sighed.  
"I know, it's really silly, but three years ago he bugged me to a point where I almost punched him in the face just to get rid of him. So I decided that for the sake of Peace on Earth I better stay out of his way until he's too drunk to offer much resistance when I suggest he better go home; which usually happens around half past four."

"I see. Well then, see you later."  
Amanda turned to leave. Before she actually left the ladies room, she turned back once more.  
"Now, let me guess: This conversation here falls under the Agency's code of confidentiality, right?"

Maybe she was imagining it but Francine seemed to hesitate for just a moment before answering.  
"Right."

"Right," Amanda repeated and nodded. "Thought as much."

Well, it couldn't be helped. But it really was too bad, she thought as she left, that she and Francine only ever had this kind of phantom conversation. Except of course, for the usual small talk and the latest Agency gossip now and then, and the occasional barb thrown in Amanda's direction. But that didn't really count as conversation, did it?

She would have loved to really talk with Francine, maybe even over lunch, now that she was finally starting to understand her a little better. Well, at least she _thought_ she was. Francine, however, didn't seem to want that. Or maybe she just didn't dare? It was hard to tell.

_Oh well, patience, Amanda. Rome wasn't built in one day, either._


End file.
